Saga
by Sunnepho
Summary: What, you didn't think that I was going to just sit around and wait for you to come back, did you? I came to find you, Xena. Return of the Valkyrie XA style.
1. I was looking for you

**Saga**  
Atrophy

Yup... So Ares is Beowulf. Well, not really. Anyway, this'll definitely be X/A shippy. That's me for you.

Also, hang historical accuracy. The Viking age is entirely the wrong time period for Xena.

Disclaimer: All characters and general concepts are property of Renaissance Pictures and StudiosUSA. No copyright infringement intended. This is just how I entertain myself while I should be studying.

* * *

Ares reined in his horse and rubbed his eyes. He was exhausted, hadn't had a good wash for days, and now a godsdamned procession was occupying the entire street. He knew he was close, though. It had been hard over the past year, chasing nothing but rumours and gossip, but Xena had to be here. 

"It's Lord Hrothgar and Lady Wealthea," an excited voice said somewhere behind him. "They must be back from organizing that trade route with the lords of Brittannia."

He sighed impatiently, watching the long lines of slaves walking before him.

"Really?" said another shrill whisper. "Doesn't that usually take months?"

"It's the influence of Lady Wealthea; I'll bet my life on it," replied the first. "I heard she could charm the teeth off of a bear."

"_I_ heard that they own a hundred…"

Ares tuned out the gossiping women as a man who looked like his face was being eaten by his beard rode by on a huge black horse. Must be this Hrothgar man, he thought, eyeing the gold liberally draped over his neck. Pompous ass.

A sharp gasp sounded behind him, and one of the women surged forward, jostling his horse.

"Look! It's Lady Wealthea!" she said, oblivious to his glare.

A flash of white caught his eye, and he turned. His breath stuck in his throat.

Xena?

His ears roared, drowning out all external noise, and he could feel his heart slamming against his ribcage. He opened his mouth just as her eyes met his.

Her eyes slid away without a flicker of recognition.

Ares stared at her receding back, stiff and straight through the white furs in which she was swathed, and he frowned.

What was that?

* * *

Ares hauled himself through the window with a grunt as his foot tangled itself in some rich drapery. Biting back a curse, he untangled himself and looked around, taking in the opulent fabrics and nasty, guttering candles. His mouth tightened when his eyes swept over the bed, and he quickly turned away. Xena and her… husband—the idea was disturbing. 

He sighed and let the leaden knot of jealousy sink into his stomach.

The sound of approaching footsteps jolted him into action, and he slid soundlessly into a dim alcove half-hidden by a heavy tapestry.

Xena pushed open the door and stepped inside, closely followed by Hrothgar.

"My Lord," she said, a faint tremble in her voice that Ares had never heard before. Before she could continue, Hrothgar grabbed her shoulders roughly and pulled her into a kiss.

Ares' hand clenched until he was sure he could feel a trickle of blood through his fingers.

"My Lord," she repeated, pulling away, "please. You have guests. I will be waiting when you return."

Hrothgar stared at her for a moment before stepping back with a gruff "Very well." He jammed his helmet back onto his head as he left.

Xena's head fell as if an enormous amount of tension drained out of her, and she flopped down into the chair placed before a vanity mirror set into the wall. She didn't move, even when Ares stood behind her. He frowned. He couldn't remember the last time he was able to sneak up on her like this.

"What's going on, Xena?" he said softly.

She flinched and looked up into his reflection. She stood slowly, dull blue eyes never leaving his face.

"Are you an assassin?"

"No." He narrowed his eyes. "Were you expecting one?"

She didn't respond, and she didn't react when he reached out to gently tug her around to face him.

"What are you doing here? Where's Gabrielle? I keep hearing these rumours about her being some magical goddess with the power to grant all your wishes trapped in a ring of fire. Xena—"

That got a scowl. "Why are you calling me that?"

"Xena—"

"I don't know how you got in here, but my husband will return soon, so I suggest you leave immediately, you lunatic."

Ares stared at her. "You really don't remember?"

There was a bang from somewhere outside, and he grabbed her hand. "Come with me."

"What? Are you truly insane or just deaf? I told you, that's my husb—"

"Then why do you look so afraid when he touches you?" Ares snapped.

Her eyes darkened, filling with a familiar fire. She wrenched her arm away and sneered, "I need no _hero_."

"_I'm_ a—" he cut off his belligerent retort with a sigh. "Look, I know you don't trust me, but what about Gabrielle? She needs you."

Xena's eyes unfocused. "Gabrielle," she said in a small voice. "That name…"

"Great, _she_ gets a reaction," Ares muttered. "You can reminisce later, but we have to go now." He took her hand again and dragged her out into the outside hall.

"Wait! You can't go that way; there are guards!"

Ares had already pulled his sword and charged the startled men standing near a heavy door down the hall. His first swing bit deep into a shoulder with the crunch of splintering bone and a spray of blood. He dragged out his blade in time to deflect an axe aimed at his head. He easily dodged another swing of the heavy weapon and shoved his sword into the second man's chest up to the hilt. There was the whistle of a descending blade at his back, and he steeled himself. This was going to hurt if he was wrong.

The blow never reached him, and he let out a ragged breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He turned to see Xena standing behind him, a dagger in one hand and sleeves stained up to the elbow.

She opened her mouth, staring at her red hands, but no sound came out.

"Thank you," he said.

"I…"

"You saved my life." He placed his hand over hers and squeezed, the blood on her palm making an unpleasant squelch. "When you thought I was an assassin, you acted as if death was your goal. The Xena I know isn't pathetic like that. Xena is alive. That feeling, hot blood on your hands, that means you're _alive_." He smiled at her stare. "I've learned a lot about being mortal after you left me on that mountain."

"I don't even know you! My body just moved…"

"But you killed for me."

A clanging alarm sounded down the hall, quickly escalating as others picked it up and started their own alarms.

Ares glanced around hurriedly and tugged at her. "So now that you're a fugitive, _now_ will you come with me?"

Xena scowled at him and turned abruptly, dragging him behind her. "That's the wrong way."

* * *

TBC 


	2. Now that I've found you

2.

Disclaimer: All characters and general concepts are property of Renaissance Pictures and StudiosUSA. No copyright infringement intended. Yeah.

* * *

Xena spat out an unladylike curse when she stumbled, kicking up a spray of swamp water, and Ares' hand shot out to grab her arm. 

"I thought you knew the way," he said peevishly.

"This is the way."

"This is a filthy swamp. My boots are caked with enough mud that I'm going to take this entire godsforsaken dump with me when I get out."

"The roads are swarming with guards after your little demonstration back there."

Ares glowered. At least she'd lost the frightened doe look after they'd gotten into enough nasty arguments. "They were attacking us, and _you_—"

"What's your name?" Xena interrupted.

There was a long silence.

"Ares," he said, and his voice sounded strange even to his ears.

She gave him an odd look as they continued slogging through the swamp. "Like the heathen god?"

If he laughed now, it'd probably come out too hysterical. His hand had slipped down her arm at some point, and her cold fingers were clenched in his hand. He pulled his hand away as if burned when he noticed this. Almost immediately, her hand latched onto his wrist.

"If I'm going to fall," she said grimly, "I'm taking you with me."

"I hardly think that's appropriate, given your marital status," Ares said. He winced. That didn't sound as nonchalant as intended.

"What, are you jealous?"

He was not going to answer that. "Like the god, yes. I am the god. It's a long story. Don't ask."

"You're the god of war." The scepticism in her voice could have drowned a battalion.

"I don't need you to believe me."

They walked on, struggling against the occasional hidden root under the deceptively flat surface of the mud. The only sound was the harsh pants of their breathing.

"This Xena," she said suddenly, "she's your... warrior? Assuming you're a god."

He scowled. "I think I liked you better when you were meek and respectful."

"I doubt it."

"How do you know what I liked?"

"No," she continued. "That she was your warrior, I mean. What you said before, about blood and being alive, that sounded moronic. Xena would have told you to piss off, if she was anything like me."

"Harsh as ever, I see."

"And you would have let her, given the way you're treating me."

Ares carefully kept his face blank, concentrating on reaching the sloping bank he could see through the mist. A yawning sensation appeared in his stomach, as if there was a pit behind him that he couldn't see, but any misstep would drop him into it. She'd never talked like this before. This Xena was too open and too willing to look at him, and it was—

"I am grateful, you know," she said quietly. "I wouldn't have been able to leave."

He hauled himself onto the ledge after testing its sturdiness, and only then did he look at her. Her clothes were splattered with mud, her hair was a tangled mass that sent long tendrils clinging to her chapped lips, but _gods_... "Xena," he said, and reached out a hand to help her up.

She smiled slowly, painfully guilelessly. "Yeah, I guess that's my name." Taking his hand, she climbed out of the swamp, bumping into him and sending the two of them staggering. She laughed a bit breathlessly and said "Thank you, Ares."

* * *

Xena shifted uncomfortably and scratched at her neck again. 

"Stop that," Ares snapped. "You'll break the skin."

"But it's so itchy!"

"You would have been recognized immediately in those white robes."

"I know that. I haven't complained about that. I'm just obviously not the sole occupant of this garment at this time."

"Spoiled brat," Ares said half-heartedly. She was acting like that time, when she'd been revived with only half her memories and a snapped chakram. He remembered something with Gabrielle realizing that Xena needed both her "light" and her "dark" sides—what idiotic names—to be whole. He didn't give a damn about the wholeness of her spiritual being or whatever the blonde would call it. This was just weird. Like that. Her sparkling, inquisitive eyes in his face like a teenager's who has just left home for the first time.

"You're a million miles away," she said conversationally.

"What happened to the identity crisis angst?" he said sourly.

She flinched. "Asshole," she muttered, settling back into her seat and staring out at the scenery from the back of the hay wagon from which they'd snagged a ride.

A few minutes later she asked, "Where are we going anyway?" This Xena forgave far too easily.

"To get something important," he said.

"A weapon?" Perceptive as ever, though.

"Yeah."

She seemed satisfied with that, leaning back her head, which was covered with a dirty woollen cap, so that the dying light of the sun washed over her face. "This is nice. The castle never got any sunlight."

"Hmm," Ares replied absently.

"Do you talk so little because you're afraid of what you'll say?" she said, exasperated.

He looked at her with a frown. "Do you talk so much because you were afraid to when you were in the castle?"

She laughed, sharp and brittle. "I'm not that deep."

"Halt!" A new voice barked.

The wagon driver complied, turning the cart until it stopped so that his passengers were in full view of the gate guards.

"This is the town," Ares said just loudly enough for Xena to hear. "Superstitious, gullible—"

"What are you muttering about?" a guard said loudly. He turned to the driver without waiting for a reply. "You have uncleared passengers, old man."

There was a tremble in the man's voice when he said "They are just travellers passing through."

"They must be tested by the Hand of the Gods, stupid peasant!"

Ares' hand shot out to stop the pike descending on the old man's shoulder. "We'll go."

The guard withdrew his weapon reluctantly and passed a suspicious look over the two as he stepped back. "Take them," he nodded to his subordinates.

There was a brief altercation when a guard tugged too hard on Xena's arm to pull her from the wagon, and Ares shoved the man's hands away to clutch her protectively to his side. The rest of the guards surged forward at the display, but the first guard waved a hand dismissively and said, "They're coming willingly enough. Don't touch the wife."

As they passed through the town gates, Ares heard Xena snicker beside him.

"Hero," she said quietly as if it were an accusation.

"Chit," he muttered back.

* * *

As prisons went, this one wasn't half bad. The straw was decently clean, there was a bucket in the corner, and the rats were fairly unobtrusive. 

Ares stifled a snicker as he looked at Xena, who was asleep, perched on a plain wooden bench with her legs folded around her and a stick leaning against her shoulder. She might not remember being a warrior, but...

Speaking of swords, Ares glowered at the guard in the corner, who was drooling all over Ares' sword after he'd confiscated it. The man was slumped over the table with his head pressed against the weapon, shifting occasionally as he slept with the edges of the scabbard digging into his cheek. Incompetent fool. A kid who fell asleep that easily while on guard duty should be whipped and sent home to his mother.

There was a sharp "hah!" of breath and a thud from Xena's corner, and Ares shot into a defensive stance.

"What?"

He watched Xena pull herself up and right the bench. "Ahh," she said with a grimace, "bad dream."

"A nightmare?" Ares peered at her curiously while she fussed with her heavy skirt. "About what?"

She shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

She was embarrassed, he realized. She wouldn't look at him. He reached out to touch her shoulder, but her hand caught his wrist. He pulled away gently before he saw that her hand was shaking.

"Hrothgar?" he said coldly.

"I said drop it!"

"What did he do to you?" he pressed.

The name she called him was quite creative.

He started laughing after a moment, something bitter coating the back of his tongue. "I'm pretty callous, you know. I've never been good at this empathy thing, but," he paused, searching for words, "I care about you, right?"

In the silence, Xena tilted her head back into the streak of moonlight drifting through the thin slit of a window until the heavy black shadows of her lashes looked like macabre clown paint on her cheeks. "Hey," she said.

"Yeah?"

"Where was I born?"

She asked about her home, her family, and then she asked about him.

* * *

Ares awoke to the glow of false dawn and found himself leaning against a stone wall with Xena's head propped against his arm. They'd fallen asleep talking about the Twilight, as far as he could remember, and she'd expressed great scepticism concerning her role in the whole matter. He felt a twinge of guilt for not mentioning his attempted betrayal of the Olympians, but gods, what was he supposed to say? "I love you, so I tried to blackmail you"? 

Her guard had slipped while he talked, and he'd seen the ugly black bruise crawling over her shoulder. He didn't mention it, and she didn't ask anything awkward.

The cold seeping from the stone penetrated his back like icy water, and he shivered violently.

"Ow," Xena said, sitting up and holding her head. "Don't jerk around like that. I hit my head."

"I'm _so_ sorry for being cold," Ares said dryly.

Xena gave him a solid shove as she stood up. "Don't breathe into my face."

She easily dodged the half-hearted swipe that Ares took at her head, and was in the process of bringing her knee into his gut when there was a loud clanging from the bars.

"Hey! No fighting!" A guard slammed his spear against the bars a few more times. "The Priests of the Hand will see you now."

The man who had been fumbling with the keys pulled open the door to the cell, and a couple of guards clanked in to attach chains to their hands.

They followed calmly to the heavy rusted door and into the orange glow of dawn that illuminated the strangely busy town square. Ares squinted into the light as they were directed to stand in line with several other prisoners.

"Hmm," he said when Xena nudged him.

"A lot of the townspeople have their hands wrapped in bandages," she said softly.

"Yeah, because of that," he nodded at the scaffolding occupying the centre of the square, a black silhouette against the bright sky.

They watched the prisoner before them get shuffled into a kneeling position at the base of the scaffold, with the chains around his hands wrapped around a heavily chipped tree stump placed on the ground.

One of the priests stepped forward, raised his hands, and began to speak.

After the fourth "glory" and the second "chosen," Ares could feel his eyes glazing over.

"What is he talking about?"

He nodded at the top of the strange structure. "See that? It's a sharp blade, what they're calling the Hand of God. When that windbag is done talking, they're going to cut it free so that it falls onto the stump down there. The idea is that if the idiot who let himself get chained up there is chosen by the 'Hand of God,' it'll come down onto his hands blade first and cut him. If he isn't, the flat'll hit him, and he'll be branded and banished. He'll probably die in the swamp since none of the cart drivers near here will pick up anyone with the brand or give him food."

"That's ridiculous! The chances of the blade flipping and not slicing into a hand from that height are enormous. What if there's a wind?"

"Then he wasn't chosen by their god," Ares said. "Don't look at me like that. It's not like I believe in this shit either."

"How do you know this, anyway? At the castle, we've never gotten anything but peaceful reports from this village."

"I spent a lot of time looking into the village."

"Why?"

"Because _that_ is what we're here for."

Xena scowled at him. "Getting tested by this Hand thing?"

"No. Look at it."

Xena looked up just as the chakram spun around so that it was outlined against the sky.

"We're here to take it."

There was a snap as it dropped down toward the trembling man with a thin whine. The flat glanced off of his fist with an audible slap, and the man screamed.

"Dad!" a voice from the crowd yelled, and a boy surged forward into the line of the guards. He reached out his hand that was missing two fingers, trying to shove past the guard who had caught him on the staff of his spear.

Behind him, a priest made a motion with his hands, and the prisoner was pulled from the stump and dragged toward the prison while the boy was pulled away by his mother.

There was another gesture from the priest, and a guard standing near the line of prisoners reached out to tug on Ares' chains.

He turned back with a smirk on his face. "Showtime," he said.

"What are you going to do?" Xena hissed, but he was already walking away.

The clanging of the chains against the ground while they were being wrapped around the stump seemed to echo against the walls of the buildings surround the square. The chakram was pulled back into place carefully and fastened with some glittering thin twine. The guards stepped back hurriedly, and the priests watched the chakram intently.

They were waiting for it to stop swinging, Ares realized. Some of the guards were giving him strange looks as he stared upwards just as intently. They were probably used to the prisoners cowering and snivelling in fear.

A puff of wind buffeted the chakram, and it swung in a lazy arc, reflecting a flash of sunlight into Ares' eyes. He squinted without turning his eyes away. He must have missed the priests' signal because there was that snap again, and it was accelerating down toward him. There was another flash as it tilted, tumbling as it fell.

There!

Ares surged up, twisting his hands. There was a scrape of metal as the blade sheared through the chains like so much butter and a dull thwock as it bit into the tree stump. The pieces of chain jangled, slipping off his hands and littering the ground, and he reached down to tug the chakram free. Glancing around the square with rapid calculations shooting through his mind, he pulled back his arm and let it fly.

It bounced off of a shield, skipped across the chains of the rest of the prisoners with a trail of sparks, ricocheted off a torch, another shield, headed straight for Xena, and _shit she had her eyes closed!_

Ares lurched toward her, reaching as far as he could. If he could just deflect it a tiny bit off course—

It stopped suddenly.

A drop of blood rolled down the edge and splattered against the ground, and Xena lowered her hand, her eyes opening to look at the chakram her fingers were clenched around.

The pounding in Ares' ears lessened, and he could hear the screams and smacks of metal on flesh.

"The villagers are attacking the guards," Xena said, looking around.

Ares shook his head and grabbed her uninjured hand. "They'll be fine," he said. He pulled her along behind him as he ran.


	3. I Thought It'd Be Easier

3.

Disclaimer: All characters and general concepts are property of Renaissance Pictures and StudiosUSA. No copyright infringement intended. Yeah.

It took two months. ... I don't have any excuses for you. I'm sorry.

* * *

"Ow!" 

"Stop moving."

"Stop stabbing my hand!"

"I told you I'm not good at this bandaging thing." Ares smoothed the bandage down over her palm and watched as a blotch of red seeped through the white fabric. Wrapping another layer over it, he darted a glance and a smirk up at her. "Wuss," he said.

He would have quailed under the full blast of her glare, had it not been over such a silly argument. Xena always took everything too seriously. Razing villages, protecting complete strangers, angsting over her past...

"I am this close to strangling you to death—ow!"

"Are you trying to bend the hand that I'm bandaging, knowing that it's injured?" Ares asked, amused.

"I'm right-handed."

He laughed as he tied up the bandage neatly.

"It's mine, isn't it?"

Ares leaned back. "Yeah, the chakram's yours."

She had her cheek resting on a fist, a small frown on her lips. "There's something important about it."

"It was important to you." He shrugged. She looked at him, and a heavy strip of her bangs fell across her eyes. "Your hair's getting really long."

"Yeah, I guess."

* * *

She was tossing the chakram from hand to hand as they walked. Every so often, she'd sling it at a tree, where it'd embed itself with a thump, and she'd tug it out as they walked past. Her aim was improving, he realized, watching the weapon bite deep into the wood dead centre at eye level. 

The next one ricocheted and flew straight at his face.

There was a flurry of movement, and Xena growled at him, "Why didn't you catch it?"

He gave her his laziest grin and said, "Because I knew you would."

"What if I'd missed?"

"Then I'd haunt you from the grave." He frowned at her hand. "Did you cut yourself again?"

He pulled her off the road while a cart rumbled past them, and they sank into soft mounds of leaves lining the path past their knees. Xena had picked up a handful of the crackly things by the time the cart sputtered to a stop.

"Hey! I'll take you to the next town!"

They looked up at the carter, who waved his hand that was missing three fingers cheerfully.

It wasn't until they were rolling along the rutted path that Xena said cautiously, "I thought people who didn't pass the judgement were exiled and couldn't have contact with townspeople."

The carter grinned lopsidedly and said, "That was the guards' decision, not ours."

"What happened to the guards?"

Another grin, and the carter slid a finger slowly across his throat.

"Oh."

"I'm going to pick up my Uncle. He was exiled, and got to the next town. Sent us a message secretly so as we'd know he was safe. My uncle's an incredible warrior. No swamp was going to kill him!"

"No?"

"My name's Wiglaf, by the way. Yeah, my uncle's always..."

Ares settled in for the ride, since the young man didn't seem likely to hear their responses, anyway.

* * *

"So... Now what?" 

Ares fingered his coin pouch and grimaced. "We'd better camp out for tonight. I'll find some odd jobs tomorrow, but we might be stuck here for a while."

"Camp out? Again?"

"Unless you have a considerable amount of money secreted—" Ares stopped abruptly when Xena snatched his coin pouch out of his hands and walked off calmly.

"What?" he said when he caught up to her, "you're going to charm your way into the biggest inn in town?"

The smile she flashed him was disconcerting. "An interesting proposition," she said, "but no."

Ares glowered at her retreating back and jogged to catch up when it disappeared through the creaky wooden doors of the inn.

She was standing just inside the door, smiling politely at a man in an apron. To his consternation, she looked up at him, and shuffled demurely until she was halfway behind him, and her hand slipped into his.

"Ah, sir!" The innkeeper said, "Welcome."

They'd attracted a good amount of attention by now.

"Will sir be wanting a room for the night?"

Ares looked to Xena, but she barely met his eyes before turning her head down and leaning into him with a visible blush. "I'm sorry," he said to the innkeeper, "this is all a mistake. We can't afford to spend the night. If you'll excuse us..."

"Those baubles on your arms look like they should be worth a pretty penny," a pleasant voice called from a table in a corner.

Ares stiffened. "I have no intention of selling—"

"Then why not play us for your fare?" Warm brown eyes squinted in a smile, and the man at the table flicked a card in the air, catching it deftly, and slapping it down onto the deck in front of him before wiping his palm in a curve that left the deck evenly fanned out. "You look like a lucky man."

He frowned. "I don't think—"

Xena interrupted him this time. "We'll do it."

"Ah, the beautiful lady is vouching for you, sir."

Ares let himself be led to the table, when Xena reached out and lifted a card. "If you don't mind, I'd like to give it a try," she said. "My husband has been teaching me to play recently. I only hope I won't embarrass him." She flipped the card around absently, revealing a queen of swords.

The smiles on the faces of the men around the table were kind, and Ares was immediately suspicious.

* * *

"Ah," Xena said, giving a self-deprecating little chuckle. "I think I win again." 

There were groans, hoots of laughter, and a muddle of babbles from the ring of onlookers.

The smiles of the conmen were distinctly strained by now, and Ares could see beads of sweat gathering around the nose of the man who offered to play. The door swung open to a blast of cold air, and he shivered, bumps rising all over his bare chest.

Xena had been doing alright, at first. They'd started out with small stakes, and Xena never seemed to have very good cards. Somehow, though, the others always had worse hands. She'd already won a small amount of money before the man with the pleasant brown eyes raised the stakes and laid down a set of faced cards with an air of sorrow. He'd started to say something to Xena, but stopped short and stared when she revealed her hand. Ares saw a flash of panic before he'd laughed heartily and congratulated her on winning again. His face had grown increasingly grim as she won the next five rounds as well.

He threw down his cards in disgust now. "By Odin!" he said. "I have nothing left to give but my trousers!"

Xena laughed prettily and handed back his shirt, coat, and weapons. "I am not inhuman," she said, "but I do believe I've won enough for at least a week's board?"

The innkeeper swooped in to collect the money on the table. "Oh, yes," he said, "more than enough."

Xena tugged Ares' money pouch from the innkeeper's hands, dropping into it exactly the amount she'd started out with. She tucked it into Ares' hand and gave the innkeeper a dazzling smile. "The rest is yours, for your good service."

"You are very kind, my lady. Very kind. Inga! Show our guests to room four."

A small maid with bright blond hair bobbed a couple of times in front of them before leading the way to the stairs at the back of the bar.

"Gods," one of the card-players was grousing as the trio picked through the pile for their clothing. "She was a professional. Way to pick them, Alvis." Ares turned to see who'd spoken. A scowling redhead, noticing his glance, turned his head away quickly.

The maid had led them to a clean, small room and shut the door behind them by the time Ares trusted his voice.

"Where—How in the world..."

Xena tossed her coat onto the bed with a shrug. "I was cheating."

"You were..." Ares felt very undignified, gaping like a fish.

"If it's any consolation," she said, "they were cheating, too. I was just better at it."

"I didn't think—"

Her eyes were very blue when she looked at him, the bright daylight behind her haloing her hair. "I have many skills," she drawled.

It was very quiet.

Ares sagged onto the bed and brushed a hand over it. "Only one bed again," he murmured.

She moved too quietly, and he jumped when she said, "That shouldn't be a problem, husband sir" directly against his ear so that his entire head vibrated with her dark velvet-y voice.

"You're acting _drunk_," he said, leaning away and covering his ear.

"It's a rush, that game," she said and, to his utter shock, fucking crawled into his lap.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you think?" she said, and she kissed him. Her mouth was warm, rough from the wind, and he felt a small sting when their teeth clacked, cutting into his lip.

"Wait, wait!" He pushed her back into a sitting position, and she raised an eyebrow at him in that infuriatingly calm and condescending way.

"Yes?"

"This is a _really_ bad idea."

She moved her hips against him in a way that made his eyes actually roll back and a moan rumble through his chest.

Her mouth curved wickedly while he stared.

"Why?" she said, drawing out the word. She leaned down again.

"Xena, _stop_!"

Her eyes narrowed and seemed to shut down. Pulling away, she put as much distance between them as possible without falling off the bed.

"Tell me why you came to find me, then."

Ares winced. This was the question they'd both been avoiding for the past few weeks.

"You know why," he said.

"No, I don't," she said coldly.

He flopped back onto the bed, covering his eyes with an arm.

"I love you, Xena. I love you more than anything. But this is all wrong. You don't remember me. It's like some sort of sadistic game the Fates are playing, and everything's not real. I want... I want—"

"You want your first time to be perfect or some idealistic shit like that."

Ares laughed shortly. "Not quite the first time."

"You want to be loved back for the real you that I don't remember."

"I..."

"You're an idiot."

He uncovered his eyes to peer up at her, unsure as to how to take that announcement, but she wasn't looking at him now.

"Don't you have to go find a job?" she said detachedly.

He got up hesitantly. "Yeah. I should. I'll be back soon." He paused and said slowly, "Will you—"

"I don't _have_ anywhere else to go," she said irately.

"Sorry."

"I'll be here. Now get out before I throw you out."

* * *

They'd reached a tentative peace over the next few days. Xena didn't bring up the incident again. In fact, she didn't talk much about anything. It was as if her taciturn nature was reasserting itself in the lack of any outright opposition on her part. 

He'd woken more than once to find her studying him, as if his face held some sort of solution. He'd taken to watching her in return, and they'd ended up spending a distressing amount of time engaged in an informal staring contest. They always ended when she smirked, as if finding whatever it was she was looking for in his eyes, and he looked away, feeling oddly embarrassed.

Then he woke up one night to choking smoke.

Xena was already up, leaning over to shake him with one hand while covering her mouth with the other.

They both dropped to the floor.

He glanced at the door to their chamber with bleary eyes, and turned back to see her shaking her head.

"No good," she shouted over the increasing roar of fire.

He nodded, and pointed at the window.

"We're on the second floor!" she protested even as she followed him in his crouching run.

"Tuck and roll!"

"Are you insane?" Even as she groused, she helped him tear off the shutters.

Outside, through the rolling black smoke, he could see Alvis, the man with the warm brown eyes she'd played against. They were trained on their window while the man idly tossed his deck between his hands. A small smile played on his lips. It quickly faded into a horrified gape when he and Xena launched themselves from the window, and Alvis turned and fled. He might have succeeded had Ares not tackled him and landed a solid punch to his head.

Leaving the conman moaning quietly and nearly catatonic, Ares turned to Xena.

"The wind's too strong! We have to get out of here before the fire spreads too much!"

There was no response.

"Xena!" he yelled.

She was standing still, staring at the fire as if hypnotized. He realized that her lips were moving, and he leaned in until he could hear her.

"It burned," she said.

"What?"

"Cirra burned..."

Oh gods.

"This is _not_ a good time to—" he started, and snapped his head around so quickly that he suffered from whiplash.

She'd heard the scream, too, and she shoved past him, submerging herself fully into the water-trough shoved against a wall. She stood, water streaming from her clothes and her hair plastered to her head.

He grabbed her arm roughly. "Don't! The building's going to collapse any minute now, and—"

She tore from his grip with a scathing glare, and ran into the fire.

Ares swore steadily as he dunked himself in the same water-trough and followed her, giving the conman that was stirring sluggishly a kick to the head in passing. He lay still again.

* * *

Ares sifted through the tufts of hair lying on the ground, the ends seared beyond repair. 

"I liked your hair," he said mournfully.

"It'll grow back."

"Yeah..." He pushed his fingers into her hair, watching as the short strands slid weightlessly out of his hand. "I turned that card sharp in for arson."

"Mm."

"Xena..." he hesitated. "What do you remember?"

Her eyes fell, and she didn't speak for a while. "I remember... fire. Callisto. Burning, stinking blood... but nothing else."

He tugged her chin up until the ridiculously blue eyes met his. He always hated that self-loathing.

"Xena," he said, "stop it. You saved that girl."

"Leave me alone, Ares."

"No."

"Ares—"

"You saved me, too."

"No, I didn't."

"Not this time."

She watched him sullenly.

"You'll remember," he said.


	4. I Think

4.

Disclaimer: All characters and general concepts are property of Renaissance Pictures and StudiosUSA. No copyright infringement intended. Yeah.

* * *

The trees were black as if charred, and bits of rag strung up in the branches flapped in the lacklustre wind.

"Looks like there was a battle here," Ares said suddenly, startling a few ravens into the sky. "The forest looks like it was burned."

"It's blood."

"Huh?"

"There are stories about this place. Odin's torment. The trees and ground are stained with his blood from his long crucifixion. The forest is rotting."

Ares brushed his hand over a trunk, and the bark crumbled under his fingers. "Gruesome. Vikings are a cheery lot, aren't they?"

"We have our moments," Xena said. Her lips thinned and she glanced away sheepishly off his sharp look.

"You religious?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"What, you don't believe in me?"

Her eyebrows lifted. "I shouldn't think I have to."

"Because you know I'm here?"

"We've had this conversation before, haven't we?"

Ares nodded contemplatively. "That's better than belief," he said.

She was staring at something behind his ear.

"I thought we were having a moment here, Xena."

"That tree looks very familiar."

"You're ignoring me in favour of the scenery?" Ares turned to look, anyway. The tree was huge, black, and spider-like, stretching its branches far enough to entangle those of other trees. It was empty but for some dozen ravens perched evenly across its limbs. As he watched, another landed and turned its head to one side and another, fixing them with one eye at a time. "Let's go," he said quietly.

Xena let herself be steered away without a fuss. "Odin's eyes," she muttered.

"Yeah. Just act like we don't see them. Odin doesn't bother Olympians if we don't bother him. Actually, my old drinking buddy Thor is—"

"No, you don't understand," Xena said with a shake of her head. "Something happened. It was important."

"That's right, Xena. Your little friend has something that belongs to me."

Ares winced at the new voice. Around them, armour clanked as several chargers settled heavily on the ground, steam rising from their flanks. He pasted a broad grin on his face before turning around. "Odin! Still losing the ol' hair, I see."

Odin tilted his head in recognition. "Ares. Mortal, I see."

"Ah, it's a long story, but hey, long stories are always best over ale—"

"Silence!" said a blonde valkyrie with a face like a lemon. She surged forward on her horse, and Xena threw herself to the ground to avoid the outstretched sword. The valkyrie followed, forcing Xena to roll to avoid trampling hooves.

"Hey, hey!" Ares yelled. "I'm the one who was mouthing off. Why are you picking on a defenceless..." He trailed off while he watched Xena drag the valkyrie off the horse. "Make that blameless—"

Odin interrupted him. "Shut up, Ares. Leave now before I give you a true taste of mortality."

"That has to be the lamest threat I've ever heard." Ares placed a hand casually on the hilt of his sword. A glance to the side showed Xena holding her own nicely. She ducked under a swing and kicked the valkyrie in the knee. Good girl.

He'd been about to draw his sword when Xena pushed past him. There was a bruise growing on her cheek, but she had the valkyrie in a choke hold.

"What friend?" she said, ignoring the struggling woman.

Odin frowned and leaned forward to peer into her face.

"Tell me! What friend? What do you want?"

He smiled, eyes slit and catlike. "Gabrielle," he said. "She needs your help. I only want what's best for her." At his gesture, the valkyrie fell limp in her arms.

"Gabrielle..." Xena said, dropping the blonde woman absently. "Where?"

"I'd be happy to take you to her."

"What do you get out of it?"

"Xena! You wound me." Odin pressed a hand dramatically to his breast. "What wouldn't I give to see Gabrielle safe and sound, reunited with her best friend?"

"Xena..." Ares said, injecting as much warning into his voice as he could manage.

Xena shook her head. "I don't trust you."

Odin's face blacked and his hand twitched before his expression settled back into that of benevolence. "Ahh, well, I don't blame you. After all, you don't remember me, do you? I can tell you where—"

"I'll find her myself."

Odin nodded stiffly. Valkyrie, one coughing heavily, took to the skies, and Odin vanished in a flash of light.

Showoff, thought Ares with some bitterness.

* * *

It was dark by the time they made their way out of the black forest and reached a small village. After Ares practically force-fed her, he watched Xena stare into the roaring fire.

"What do you want to do?" he said finally.

Xena's head tilted slightly in his direction.

"Odin's obviously planning something after we find Gabrielle."

"I'll deal with Odin when I have to," Xena said. She turned to face him fully, confusion and urgency in her eyes. "I just know I have to find Gabrielle. I can't even remember, but I know..."

"I know."

Xena nodded.

"We can do some asking around in the morning. This doesn't seem like a prime spot for nightlife."

She nodded again, thoughtfully. "Yeah, there's something odd about this village. Did you notice the barricades?"

"Of course. Every window looks like a rat cage."

They both jumped when a scream cut through the stuffy silence outside. Pounding footsteps were followed by a thud against the door of the inn.

"Please!" The shrill voice was followed by another thud, as if the man outside had thrown his entire body against the door again. "Please let me in!"

Ares turned to look at the innkeeper. He frowned incredulously when the man cringed and shrank against the side of the bar, pushing himself even further away from the door. "Hey! Aren't you going to open the door?"

There was some sort of inhuman wail, and the unseen victim screamed again. "_Please!_"

Ares jumped to his feet, but paused when Xena rushed past him, chakram in hand.

"No!" yelled the innkeeper, and he and another man attempted to grab Xena. "Don't open the door!"

Xena nailed him without a word and shoved back the wooden bar bolt. A man stumbled in and fell to the floor. Something claw-like reached in after him, and Xena slashed reflexively. The claw was snatched back, slapping the door open on the way so that a tall black silhouette was framed against the night sky. It seemed to see Xena, and with a roar, the claw was thrust forward again.

Ares stabbed forward and grunted upon impact. Bracing himself, he shoved the thing backwards, twisting his blade so that it sliced through half of the monster's hand. With another roar, it recoiled and lurched away rapidly. Leaning back, he let Xena slam the door shut in front of him.

They looked down at the victim who lay in a widening puddle of blood. Ares reached down, twitched aside the man's shirt, and winced. His torso was barely held together by a strip of skin. Shredded pieces of gut were slowly slipping out, lubricated by blood. Ares looked into the man's panicked eyes, and the man tried to draw in a gurgling breath.

"Sorry," Ares mumbled, unsure if the man could hear him.

Hands reached past him, and fingers dug into a couple of points near the man's collar.

His eyes widened. "Doesn't... hurt..." he rasped, and fell slack as he died.

Ares watched Xena shut the man's eyes and turned to glare at the innkeeper, who was huddled on the ground making loud gurgling noises. "Oh shut the fuck up," he snarled. "It's not like you had any balls to begin with."

He looked around at the various terrified patrons. "What _was_ that?"

* * *

They'd gotten the innkeeper straightened up enough to get a room out of him.

"Did you know about this Grindl thing?"

Xena shrugged, intent on untangling a particularly bothersome snarl in her hair. "The reports said it was probably a bear."

"It looked like a walking tree." Her hair was long enough to touch her shoulders now. Ares reached out to pull away a stray strand, and she turned around to catch his hand.

"You're bleeding," she said.

He looked down in surprise. "I hadn't noticed."

She didn't look at him while she cleaned the cut, and her hand clenched around his fingers when he jerked as she dabbed some alcohol over it. It wasn't until she was tying a bandage over the back of his hand that he spoke. "You want to go after Grindl, don't you?"

She paused. "It recognized me."

"It tried to kill you."

"I won't ask you to come with me."

Rage flared like a red mist. "You _know_—"

"Yeah, sorry. Stop clenching your hand. It'll make it worse."

Ares stared at the top of her head sulkily. "I hate heroes," he grumbled.

Xena tilted her head to look up at him. Then, slowly, she smiled, and dull pain thudded through his chest.

"I thought you said fighting's a waste of time, anyway," Ares said.

That smile was still on her lips when she said, "But I have people to protect."

Ow. Maybe he was having a heart attack. He should probably eat more vegetables. "The villagers?"

She tugged on his hand until he bent down towards her, and shook her head. "Important people."

Ares took a shuddering breath. "Xena..."

"You think too much."

Her hand slipped into his vest and brushed over a rough nipple, and it was cool against his skin, just as her mouth was hot against his.

It probably wasn't a heart attack.

* * *

He was alone in the bed in the morning.

Ares rolled out of bed and lunged for the door. Self-sacrificing little bitch. It was just like her...

He'd gotten the door open on the second try, rushed forward, and ran straight into Xena.

She blinked at him slowly. "Where are you going without your pants?" she said finally.

Oh gods, he was probably bright red by now.

She leaned in and kissed him. "Let's go, Ares."

After some prodding, they found a man in the tavern that reluctantly disclosed what the villagers knew of Grindl's location and punctuated his sentences by claiming that they were mad.

They were walking through a grey forest of drooping trees before he remembered.

"Hey!" Ares said, "You..." He stabbed at the air ineffectually with his fingers.

"What?"

"What you did to that man who was dying."

"Oh," Xena said slowly.

He watched as something unreadable stole over her face. "It's a good thing," he said.

Xena shrugged helplessly.

Ares looked away awkwardly. They were quite close to Grindl's last known location by now. Even if the villager hadn't talked, Ares realized, they could very well have found the place by following the long lines scored on the trees, as if a monstrous cat had a case of the scratches. It was difficult to find a tree that had not been mutilated at this point. He was starting to jump at shadows. That tree over there looked particularly spiky. "Are there other things?" he asked. "Things you just... know?"

They walked in silence while Xena struggled for a reply.

"I have this feeling," she said finally. "Just somehow, I know that there's something wrong with what the people back there told us. That... wasn't Grindl."

"How many spiky tree monsters are there running around?"

"Grindl's dead."

Ares caught a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye, but when he turned his head, he saw only black trees shifting in the wind. Wait. Cold sweat was gathering on his palms. "Then what do you call that?" he said softly to Xena, gesturing with a tilt of his chin.

He pushed Xena to the side and drew his sword in one quick movement as the monster charged toward them, snapping off branches like so many brittle twigs. It took a swipe at his head, and he ducked and rolled.

Gods, what were those spike things made out of? They had an unpleasant organic give to them, while at the same time being completely impervious to his sword. At least the thing wasn't very creative, using brute strength to hack at whatever it could reach.

Ares caught a bone-jarring blow, turning it to slide the spike down and off the length of his sword. The other arm came around in a wide sweep, and Ares jumped clumsily over it, landing on an exposed root. His foot twisted, and he let himself fall with the motion, rolling tightly down a bit of a slope. Ow. He'd scraped his leg against the monster's. Was everything sharp on that thing? He slid to a halt, spinning immediately to catch a downswing aimed at his shoulder.

Grunting with the effort, he dug his boots deeply in the dirt and shoved the monster back, its arms wheeling while it fought for balance. He surged forward, thrust his sword out, and in a moment of what he could only describe as sheer dumbfuckery, lodged it deep into the tree monster's shoulder as it fell backward, wrenching his sword from his hand.

The monster screamed shrilly and thrashed a bit like a beetle that had been flipped onto its back, and then got to its feet and tried to step on Ares. He avoided that and kept a wary eye on the monster, ducking the odd wild slash as he cast about for a temporary weapon.

The chakram sang as it glanced off of the spikes on the monster's head, shearing a few off, and bit into the shredded tree next to him.

"Xena!" he yelled helplessly when the monster turned, charged her, and caused the two to tumble down the entrance of the abandoned mine the monster had been using as its hideout.

* * *

Ares worked feverishly to dead-knot the rope he'd gotten. Only about ten minutes had passed since they'd fallen down there, he calculated.

Xena could take care of herself.

Ares gritted his teeth until his jaw ached.

He'd just tied the rope around one of the mine's posts and tossed it down when a weight tugged on the rope.

"Xena?" he said quickly, peering down.

There was a pause, and he thought his heart would burst out of his chest in a spectacularly gory fashion. "Yeah," her voice filtered out finally.

"You alright?"

"Yeah." The rope twitched as it was tested for strength from below. "We're coming up," Xena said.

"We?"

He saw Xena first, one hand gripped around the rope and the other scrabbling for purchase on the loose stones. He hurried forward and hauled her up until she was standing and leaning into him, dusty hair pressed under his nose. He ran his hands over her arms and back, half checking for any injuries and half just relishing the feel after ten gut-wrenching minutes.

She smiled tiredly at him, brushed a kiss over his mouth, and turned back to the mine.

He saw blonde hair and his first wild thought was that it was Gabrielle, but then the woman raised her head.

She was dressed like a valkyrie, he noticed.

"This is Grinhilda," Xena said.

The woman nodded amicably at him before wincing. There was blood crusted to her shoulder, he saw. Grinhilda handed him his sword with a sheepish smile.

"You..." he said. "You're—"

"The walking tree," Grinhilda filled in for him.

"How?" he trailed off into incoherence.

She nodded toward Xena, who had been ignoring the exchange in favour of scouring the surroundings.

"I see an intact cart over there," Xena said. "Grinhilda's in no condition to walk. I'll go get it."

Ares moved to help her before turning to Grinhilda. "What did she do?" He asked.

Grinhilda had been watching Xena walk away, something complicated in her eyes, but now she looked at him. "She said..."

"What?"

"That I had sad eyes. And that she was sorry."

Ares followed Xena after a moment. He thought maybe he understood.

* * *

TBC


	5. I Know

5.

Disclaimer: All characters and general concepts are property of Renaissance Pictures and StudiosUSA. No copyright infringement intended. Yeah.

* * *

"Are you sulking?"

Ares glowered. "I don't sulk."

Xena smiled and said, "Come on, you heard the healer. I have to change Grinhilda's poultice during the night, so it's most practical for me to share a room with her."

"I didn't complain, did I?"

"Not out loud," Xena said drily, and Grinhilda looked up at him with the same insufferably smug smirk that Gabrielle would give him when she thought she had one-upped him. What was it with blondes, anyway?

"I'm fine, alright? Perfectly fine. Couldn't be better." He suddenly noticed that Xena had stopped listening and was, in fact, staring at a stage holding a large standing harp. "What, are you going to play for our supper?"

She tilted her head toward him. "I could snap the strings in a creative manner, but that's about it."

A man with the fair hair and olive skin of a southerner took a seat at the harp. With a small nod to the audience, he lifted his hands to the harp. "I sing a song of Xena, the mighty Warrior Princess."

"Huh?"

They watched as the bard launched into a story about freeing Prometheus.

"Must be one of Gabrielle's," Ares said presently. "Most of the facts are right."

"This is... true?" Xena asked quietly, still watching the bard intently.

"Come on; let's get a table near the stage."

* * *

The bard had actually stopped by their table before the end of the night.

"You know," he said, eying Xena, "You look a bit like her."

"Er," Ares began hurriedly, but the man cut him off.

"Of course, Xena wasn't so... girly, and she had better hair." The bard stalked off, primping his own thinning hair. He sniffed when he heard the laughter start up behind him.

Ares shook his head, still grinning. "All right, what's next? Someone pops up swearing up and down that they've seen Gabrielle?"

Xena gave him a sceptical look and stood, her stool scraping across the rough floor. "Keep an ear open, then. I'm taking Grinhilda off to rest."

Ares watched mournfully as they walked away. Xena placed a hand on the valkyrie's elbow to gently support the woman, and he couldn't help the brief scowl that crossed his face before his eyes dropped unabashedly to what he privately referred to as Xena's assets, not that he'd tell her that to her face, the humour-lacking, unnecessarily-violent bitch. Gods, she was perfect.

Snatches of conversation drifted by, and Ares gloomily swirled his drink when the women disappeared from view. Some couple to his left was having a high decibel row about a neighbour named Trixie who didn't wear underthings because said underthings were definitely located underneath their—the couple's—bed and definitely not on Trixie's person. Some other group to his right was comparing the sizes of each participant's battleaxes, and Ares didn't particularly desire to look over and see if they were referring to their weapons in a metaphorical sense or not due to the bit of disturbing grunting going on. He was just about to drain his mug and call it a night when a name caught his attention.

"—from Grindl. Right. Were there flying pigs in the sky when you looked up?" Raucous laughter from the speaker's posse followed.

"Laugh if you wish," a quiet, steady voice responded, "but I know my wounds ache at night."

"Oh, really? And when did you last fight Grindl? In your sleep last night?"

"No."

Ares flicked an eye over to the growing crowd of Vikings. The harassed party was a tall warrior with dark hair and eyes.

"Grindl is dead," the warrior said. "I saw him killed myself. What I fought…" He shrugged. "I think only the woman who killed Grindl knows. It attacked me when I attempted to approach the Lady of the Ring."

Groans resounded through the mob. "You saw the Lady, too? Charmed life you've got there."

Ares stood. "You've seen the 'Lady of the Ring'? She's real?" he asked, feeling a twinge of excitement race through him.

The warrior turned to look him over with an assessing look in his eye that made Ares' hand twitch.

"She is a beautiful woman," the warrior said finally. "She has golden hair that glows like a halo and such strength of…" he trailed off, blanching as if he'd seen a ghost. Ares turned to the direction he was staring, gave the man the dirtiest glare he could muster, and put a hand on Xena's arm to manoeuvre her into a more defensible position. She brushed him off absently, and he gave her a wounded look.

"Xena…" the warrior said slowly. "You're alive."

Xena paused to consider his words. "Should I not be?" she said.

The warrior came to life suddenly, and Ares wondered snidely if someone had just wound up the man's key in his back. He pushed through the crowd toward Xena. Ares grabbed at his sword, but the man stopped short and dropped the hand he had reached out. "Please," he said. "You must come with me. You're the only one who can save Gabrielle."

Xena's eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"

* * *

"So," Ares said, "you found out Gabrielle's location, got rid of this Beowulf dude, foisted Grinhilda off on him, and stole his boat." He paused for dramatic effect and clasped a hand to his chest. "I love you, Xena."

"What a charmer," she said drily. She contemplated the coil of rope in her hands for another moment and dropped it onto the deck with a sigh. "This stuff's entirely too rotten to stand a sea journey. What did Beowulf do, row everywhere?"

Ares snickered. "Vikings, muscles for brains, what else is new?" He helped her refold the sail she'd pulled out of storage. "How do you know how to do all this stuff, anyway? I can't imagine dainty Lady Wealthea tacking the jib or whatever it is sailors do."

"I'd just come back from a diplomatic journey, remember? One of the soldiers was a foreigner. He taught me some things before Hrothgar—" Her jaw shut with an audible click.

When it became apparent that she wasn't going to continue, he prodded. "Hrothgar had him disposed of, didn't he?"

She looked at him then, and the naked fear in her eyes was staggering. He'd almost forgotten. She had been so much like the Xena he remembered that he'd almost forgotten. That ugly bastard was going to pay. He reached out wordlessly, and her fingers curled loosely around his.

He pulled out his store of raunchy Viking jokes on the walk back to the port town to pick up more rope, and she looked just about ready to kill him by the time they'd reached the outskirts. He blamed himself later for focussing so much on Xena that he hadn't noticed the tense atmosphere and increased activity of the town before they'd stepped into a supply store.

It was strange watching her haggle now, using her diplomatic persuasiveness instead of the intimidating veneer of arrogance that he'd remembered from back… before.

Ares let Xena out the shop door first.

He heard her give a choked off cry before there was a slap of flesh on flesh and a flurry of fur and hair whirled past him. With a furious yell, Ares drew his sword and charged. He landed a solid kick on Hrothgar, pushing him back and away from Xena before a couple of soldiers charged him. His sword clanged harshly against one soldier's blade, and he pushed, scraping along the metal until he could block the second sword. Twisting his wrist, he pinned the two weapons down to the ground, and a quick pivot and jab with his elbow yielded a satisfying crunch from one soldier's nose. He staggered back, and the other soldier took to the opportunity to make another swing. It was easy to slap the point away and sink his blade to the hilt up through the soldier's ribs. The one blinded by his broken nose hovered to his right, and a diagonal hack into the man's shoulder dropped him quickly.

Ares swung his sword up quickly, and an arrow shattered upon impact and spun out like shrapnel. He looked up and tensed. There had to be something like thirty soldiers with longbows. He crouched to decrease the target area warily. No shelter nearby. The odds were solidly against him.

Hrothgar spat at him as he approached Xena again, taking a circuitous route to stay out of reach of his blade. Ares shifted, trying to position himself so that he could see Hrothgar and the archers at the same time.

"Did you actually think you could get away from me?" Hrothgar snarled.

Xena looked up at him, frozen but for the thin trickle of blood from her split lip.

The fear was back, Ares saw. He could feel his arms shake with rage. What in Tartarus had that son of a bitch done to Xena before he found her? If he bolted towards Hrothgar, he thought, maybe the archers wouldn't dare shoot for fear of shooting the man. Or maybe they would shoot anyway and hit Xena. Hrothgar seemed like the type of leader who would be followed by soldiers ready to cheerfully shoot him if he got in the way. Fuck. The man had a cleaver of a sword out, but held with a relaxed grip.

"I picked you up from the swamps, gave you a name, shelter, everything you had!" The tirade continued. "You owe me everything, and this is what you give me in return?" He jabbed his sword towards Ares' direction. "You run off and whore yourself out to the first pathetic, disgusting foreigner pig that you see? Again!"

Xena cringed back, her head lowering and shoulders hunching defensively.

Hrothgar leaned forward. "Useless, weak slut!" he yelled in her face.

Ares saw Xena's eyes flick upward, and a grin began to twist his mouth. They _blazed_.

Quickly as a snake, she tilted her head forward and slammed the hardest part of her crown into Hrothgar's nose, and rolled backwards and onto her feet while he bellowed. In the same movement, she'd thrown the chakram, and it ricocheted off a wall and sliced neatly through the bowstrings of the archers, taking off at least one finger from soldiers who were too slow to move their hands out of the way. Ares crowed and charged them. Serves them right for standing in a row like idiots, he thought, mowing them down quickly. Xena could handle Hrothgar, he knew.

The majority of the archers hadn't had the foresight to pack another weapon, and it wasn't long before they were sprawled on the bloodied snow, either dead or sensible enough to pretend to be dead.

Xena was dodging Hrothgar's erratic swings of his cleaver easily enough. He lunged forward with a thrust, and she spun, lifting a knee and bringing down an elbow like _so_—

The _CRACK_ resounded through the air, and Hrothgar's sword slipped out of his suddenly nerveless grasp to thud to the ground.

She stepped up into Hrothgar's shocked face, grabbed his loose clothing, whipped her leg out as she spun again and heaved, launching him into the side of a building with a heavy smack. His brain must have caught up at this point because he grabbed his limp arm and screamed. Xena slammed her heel down on his throat, and the scream became a hoarse wheeze.

She turned around and looked at Ares at this point, a fierce grin on her face. The chakram whizzed by his head just before she reached out and snatched it out of the air. Leaning down again, she sliced cleanly and precisely through the tendon on the back of Hrothgar's left leg. She lifted the chakram to his throat, and through the rasping of Hrothgar's breath, he heard her voice, low and steady. "Next time you attack me," he heard, "you won't just get a warning."

The rope she'd dropped had a large splatter of blood on it, and Xena gave it a distasteful look. She tossed it to Ares, nodded to him as if to say she was finished here, and walked away.

Ares snorted. Right. They had a blonde to save.

* * *

I'm so sorry... It's been over a year, and it turns out it has to be a transition part. I swear the next part will be up in one week. Quote me on it.


	6. How This Story Ends

6.

Disclaimer: All characters and general concepts are property of Renaissance Pictures and StudiosUSA. No copyright infringement intended. Thanks for being patient with me these two years, everyone!

* * *

He looked green. He was sure of it.

It was all because of that fucking hangover he had the first time he was mortal. It conditioned him somehow and now he was fucking green every time he got on a ship. He groaned and stretched out a hand beseechingly.

"Will you cry for me at my funeral?" he croaked.

Xena gave him a flat, unamused stare. "You've been whining for the last two hours."

Ares faked a sob. "Add insult to injury, why don't you."

Xena sighed, reached out, grabbed his arm, and dug her fingertips into his wrist harshly.

He yelped and sat up. "What was that for?" He blinked in surprise and ran a hand over his gut. "Hey!" he said. "I'm not spewing chunks!"

She waved a hand tiredly at him and reached out to check that the wheel remained sturdily lashed.

"You mean you could have done this all along and you just watched me suffer?"

"I didn't know, either." Xena shrugged. "Muscle memory or something."

"Must be because of Gabrielle." Ares said. "Blondie never looked like she had great sea legs."

"I wouldn't know."

Ares covered his face and moaned into his hands. She'd been like this for days, and he'd been acting as chipper and brainless as he could, given the sea-sickness, but enough was enough. "What are you so down for? You kicked Hrothgar's ass! Where's the celebration?"

"I'm not in the mood."

"You haven't looked at me like you see me for days," he said quietly.

That got a smirk. "Are you feeling insecure?"

He glared at her. "You think I'm a woman or something?"

"You're sure acting like one."

Ares scoffed. She was finally smiling, at least.

"I'm sorry," Xena said after a moment. "There's just… something big coming. I can feel it."

He shook his head. "Now you're being insecure. What could it possibly be that we can't handle?"

"I wish I shared your optimism."

"I don't need any damn optimism."

She laughed. "I wish I shared your ego, then."

Ares smiled and tilted his head down to look at her.

"What?" she said.

"You've changed a lot since you were stuck in that castle."

"Good."

She looked at him like she was trying to puzzle something out for a moment before her eyes dropped to scan over his entire body, and Ares grinned, making sure to flex a bit and stick out his chest.

She snorted. "Peacock."

"But a _sexy_ peacock." He waggled his brows exaggeratedly.

She laughed until tears beaded at the corners of her eyes, shook her head, and said "Come here."

A moment later she choked and told him to go rinse his mouth.

* * *

Ares felt fingers threading through his hair when he woke. Keeping his eyes closed, he all but purred and leaned into Xena's hand. The blankets draped over them were much softer than what he'd been used to, and he stretched, feeling them slide smoothly over his bare skin. There was a shock of cold air when they suddenly lifted, and he snapped his eyes open.

Xena was on top of him, looking very amused as she propped herself up on her arms and looked down at him.

"Cold!" he growled, grabbing her around the waist and flipping them over so that he was pinning her down with a leg and half his torso. The warm cocoon reformed, and he tucked his chin over her head and closed his eyes again.

She wriggled free with a laugh, and he whined "What?"

"You're such a baby," she said.

"I'm still sleepy."

"Oh?" She placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "I'm not," she said, and the kisses trailed down his jaw and throat. He tilted his head back, a pleased rumble in his chest.

Suddenly he jumped. It felt like she'd just pressed a piece of ice against his stomach. He looked at her with a frown. "Your hands are freezing," he complained.

"Better warm them up, then."

She reached further down, and he hissed. Maybe it wasn't that cold, after all.

Later, when his heart had stopped racing, he heard her say "What's this?"

He pried an eye open. "Oh, that."

Xena was holding a tiny metal sword. "Didn't you use to wear this in your ear?" she asked.

"Yeah, it broke a couple of weeks ago." He had a plain stud in his left earlobe now. "Keep it if you want it."

"Why would I want your cast offs?" she teased. "We're almost there, though."

"Gabrielle's here?"

"Yeah."

Ares reached for his clothes.

* * *

It was a wall of fire. It was actually a wall of fire. He'd thought Beowulf was kidding about that. Maybe being metaphorical in that tragic hero way or something, but it was an actual wall of fire.

"She's in _there_?" he said.

"Yes," replied a voice behind them.

Ares sighed as he turned. "You get kicks out of sneaking up on people with your powers, Odin?"

Odin mimed a laugh and drew his sword with a sneer.

"You know," Ares said, "if you keep twisting your face like that, it'll get stuck ugly. Oh wait. Too late." Odin didn't look impressed, and Ares saw Xena roll her eyes beside him. "What, I thought it was funny."

The blonde valkyrie with the sour face lost patience and rushed at Xena, her sword raised above her head. Xena stepped forward and to the side, never taking her eyes off Odin, and slammed her fist into the valkyrie's throat. The valkyrie fell back, clutching her neck and retching.

"You did that to show off." Ares said.

Xena shrugged, a small smile playing at her lips.

"Can you do it twenty more times?" he asked

Xena glanced at him and said, "Bring it."

She moved like it was some sort of dance, he thought. She smacked a redhead in the face, stole her sword with a quick kick, and met the next valkyrie with a resounding clang. He swung around, slashed at a valkyrie's legs with his sword while her weapon sliced over his head, and crashed her into a tree with the butt of his blade while she was off balance.

Xena had lost her sword at some point, he noticed, and there was a scratch on her cheek. He caught her eye, and she nodded, reached out and grabbed his arms just before he began spinning. She swung her legs out like maces with impressive timing and sent a least a few valkyries flying. There was a yell behind him when he let Xena down, and Ares turned, shot off a quick parry, and sank his sword into Odin's gut.

Odin bellowed again, grabbed Ares' sword by the blade even as it sank deeper into his body, and snarled in his face. "I'm a god, you moron!" He sent a punch at Ares' face with the other hand.

"Ares!"

"Go!" he yelled, struggling to disengage from Odin. "Go get Gabrielle!"

"I can't just—"

"_Go!_"

He saw her leap through the flames out of the corner of his eye, and Odin reached out with a dagger to stab the other eye. He let go of his sword and tumbled back, feeling the wind of the passing blade against his face. Fuck that was close. Ok. Weaponless. Now what?

Odin yanked the sword out of his body and heaved it into the forest. Double fuck. Ares felt like a monkey, dancing around Odin's attacks while keeping an eye out for any valkyries that looked like they were about to stir. A twig whipped him about the temple when he stumbled. He shook the stars out of his vision and rolled desperately seconds before Odin's sword thudded into the ground where he'd been lying. What was taking her so long? Were they having a joint flashback or some sappy crap like that?

He didn't see the root until too late, and his head thunked into a blackened tree solidly. Oh gods, his body wouldn't move…

The ringing in his ears turned into the sharp trill of a warcry, and he heard a whoosh go by just in front of his face.

It sounded like the chakram, he thought dazedly.

When no more pain was immediately forthcoming, he managed to pry an eye open despite the pounding in his skull.

Xena was standing in front of him, chakram held at the ready in one hand, supple brown leathers fluttering slightly in the wind. "—Slayer of Gods," she was saying. "Ring a bell?"

The look on Odin's face before he fled would keep him warm on many a cold night, Ares decided, slipping his eyes closed. Before he could relax, a hand slapped him in the face, and his eyes snapped open again.

"Hey," Xena said. She waved in his face. "How many fingers?"

"Too many," he groaned. "Stop fluttering like that. I'm getting sea-sick."

She laughed. "I think you'll be fine." She reached out and pulled him to his feet.

* * *

Ares trudged along a dirt road near Amphipolis. This walking thing still sucked as much now as it did when he first lost his godhood. He kicked a pebble viciously.

She'd left him.

He could still remember her, standing in front of him, telling him that she had something she had to do alone, her hand holding Gabrielle's so tightly that it looked like she was never going to let go. The kicker, though, was that Gabrielle had to nerve to smile at him sympathetically. The God of War is not pathetic.

And so here he was, hiking around Thrace with rocks in his boots and some dinky little man wearing what he obviously thought was armour just stepped onto the road to block his way while waving a sword around like a fly swatter. He was just about to make dinky little man paste when the girls appeared out of what seemed to be nowhere.

Xena ran off Dead Pikki or whatever his name was, and she turned and gave him a slow smile. His heart thudded against his ribcage painfully. He tried to find something to say, but gave up when he realized his mouth wasn't doing anything but working dumbly.

That's when she tilted her head and said, "How's it look?"

It took him a moment to figure out she meant the little sword dangling from her ear.

"Good," he said, after a while. "It looks good on you."

Gabrielle snickered, and he could feel the heat rising up his face.

"I see you have a lot to talk about," Gabrielle said, and he could hear the smirk in her voice. "Why don't I go on ahead, find us an inn, and you guys can catch up?" She didn't seem to wait for an answer, and Ares wasn't sure he had one to give.

"Xena?" he said finally, after Gabrielle disappeared from view.

Xena stepped forward and tilted her head until she brushed her lips over his. "Yes, hero?"

Her eyes glowed blue in the afternoon sun.

"Who are you calling a hero?"

END


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